Midnight Thoughts
by renegadewriter8
Summary: TA LJ P&J Community September Anniversary challenge. Day 3- Prompt: Less than lovers, more than friends. And Day 6- Prompt:  What am I to you? / Both wanted to move forward, but would they risk it?
1. Day 3:Less than lovers more than friends

Prompt: Less than lovers, more than friends

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Jazz was in a predicament. And said predicament was recharging right next to him. Laying on his back, he turned his head to stare at his roo- scratch that, berth-mate. Because that was all they were. See, a few months ago, the Decepticons had the most brilliant idea to bomb the Ark. As a result the officer's quarters had been totally trashed. It had been a miracle that no one was using them at the moment.

As it was, Prowl, Jazz, and Optimus all had to find different arrangements. Ratchet's quarters were right in front of the med bay in case of an emergency while Ironhide had his quarters near the shooting range. Wheeljack had moved into quarters near his lab and Red Alert had moved in with Inferno some years ago.

They had another problem. All the quarters were taken and Prime was just too big to bunk in with anyone while their quarters were reconstructed. Poor Optimus had to content himself with sleeping in one of the private rooms in the med bay. That left Jazz and Prowl. Bluestreak, bless his spark, had offered to let them both use his quarters since he did not have a room mate at the moment. Smokescreen had been detained in Las Vegas for 'counting' and would not be released for several days if not weeks. Prowl had 'accidentally' forgotten to see to it that Smokescreen were released.

So here they were, Bluestreak in one berth and Jazz and Prowl in the other. It wasn't like Jazz and Prowl didn't get along. On the contrary, they were best friends. But for a while now, there had been some tension between them. And it was all Jazz's fault. Not that Prowl knew of course.

The saboteur took a moment to study the faceplates of his best friend. And oh how he loathed the word friend in this context, when it could be changed to something far far _more_. The tactician was sleeping sideways, doorwings accommodating themselves on his back to lean against the way. They would twitch once in a while like a cat's tail would twitch when a displeasing noise was made. He could here his systems running quietly, slowly.

He had seen Prowl recharging before. But now he actually had the change to _look_. The mask he wore every joor was gone and in its place was a more tranquil and peaceful expression. He looked beautiful.

Jazz sighed quietly turning his optics back to stare at the ceiling. For a while now, Jazz couldn't content himself with merely friendship from Prowl. The tactician had gone through so much before he met Jazz that it wasn't even funny. He hadn't known love nor friendship before and Jazz found himself being angry by the mere fact that no one before him had tried to get Prowl to leave his shell.

The saboteur had taught Prowl how to interact with the others on a friendly basis, had taught him how to accept his emotions. From there, their friendship was unavoidable, and with it came a sense of protection. Too many times had he been wrongfully accused, too many times had he been insulted without knowing, too many times had he been left to suffer alone in agony and pain while other were off having fun and laughing. Jazz had always been there for him and he planned on always being there. So why not be there as something more than just friends?

Sighing again he closed his optics.

_"Because if he rejects me Ah might destroy everything we've worked for."_ Was his last thought before recharge claimed him.

Prowl woke for no reason. Still, he ran his sensors all over the room in search of a potential threat. Getting no data of such he squirmed to get into a more comfortable position. He regretted having turned down Jazz's offer to let him sleep on the outside of the berth. But he liked sleeping with his doorwings facing the wall. It was an unconscious decision to protect his doorwings from harm. Now though, the space was too small for them to be in a comfortable position. Sighing, he gave up as he did not want to wake up Jazz.

His friend was sleeping on his back, arms on his abdomen. It surprised the tactician that Jazz had not moved from his position as he clearly remembered that the saboteur, when recharging, could not hold still to save his spark.

He smiled at his friend. Jazz had appeared in his life seemly out of no where. He was headed for self destruction as steady as a lion on the prowl, and had no one to tell him contrary. Then Jazz came along and everything changed.

Jazz had been the first one to offer him something he never thought he'd receive. Companionship. While he was frustrated with the saboteur for disrupting his routine and making him refuel as well as assist several parties, he found he hand't had so much fun in almost all his existence. Jazz made him see another side of life.

Before, on the battle field, bots had protected him because he was Head of Tact and Second in Command. It was their duty. His capture could prove to be the end of the Autobots should he ever break under their torture.

When he was injured what mattered to most was if he could still come up with strategies like before. They didn't care if his doorwings had been torn off and he was in agonizing pain.

Whenever he found himself grieving for a lost city or their lost brothers, mechs would find comfort in each other while Prowl was left alone in the darkness of his office, filing reports.

When ever he entered the rec room all conversation stopped and suspicious optics followed him everywhere.

When there were social events, he would never be invited.

After Jazz came all that changed.

In the battle field, bots protected him with concern sometimes taking hits for him and always asking if he was alright at the end of the joor.

When he got injured the Autobots would return fire and hunt down the ones that caused the injury. When he was released from med bay many personally stopped by to see if he was okay and offer their help.

Now, when he walked into the rec room he was greeted by 'Hello Sir's, and warm smiles. Now, he could actually stay in the rec room if he wished and when he did, sometimes others would join him. It had been then and there that he discovered that Sideswipe was actually a good chess player.

Whenever they lost, mechs would comfort him. Small things like 'it wasn't your fault' or sinceres 'are you okay Sir?'.

When there were social events, he would be greeted not by an invitation, but by a group of mechs that literally dragged him to the party.

It had been after these changes that he discovered what true comradeship was, what friendship felt like and he had also started to feel fond of his crew.

It had been after he saw the changes that he realized just what his life had been before and sometimes sadness would consume him, sometimes accompanied with fear. What if Jazz had never appeared in his life? He would have been killed and no one would ever have cared.

But Jazz cared. Against all odds Jazz had been able to break his barriers and take a glimpse of the real him. A scared and confused mech. With Jazz's help, he had been able to live.

Though there was something that he still had not experienced, which most mechs seemed to hold dear. He wondered how love felt like. He wondered how it felt to have someone always by your side, holding you when you were sad, being with you no matter what. He wanted to feel that. He wanted to feel wanted by someone. He had never even thought of something like this before. But now, he wondered if someone would want him.

But the more he thought about this, the more he realized he was already getting this.

Jazz. He was always there for him, he always acknowledged him. Jazz had been his first friend. Protected him and guided him. He wondered, would Jazz love him?

It seemed almost impossible. Jazz was an attractive mech. Funny, intelligent and outgoing. Everything Prowl was not. Why would Jazz want to be bound to a mech that was his complete opposite?

He would never voice his thoughts to Jazz. Their friendship meant more to him than he cared to think about. He would not risk that under any circumstances.

Sighing, he powered down his optics.

_"As long as he is by my side as my friend, I can live with the pain of never being more."_

_

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=) Review please! _


	2. Day 6: What am I to You?

**Prompt:** What am I to you?

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Jazz sighed. He was sitting in the rec. room nursing a cube of energon. The room was full and mechs were gathered at different tables joking and talking, all too distracted to notice the unusual sight of the ever cheerful and social saboteur alone in a corner.

He didn't mind though. He had a lot to think about and didn't feel like talking with anyone.

It had already been two weeks since he stared sharing a berth with Prowl. A shiver went down his spine at the thought. Sharing a berth with Prowl. It sounded so… intimate. Yet it was such an innocent act brought on by necessity that it almost seemed like Primus wanted to torture him.

The first night they had shared the berth had been awkward. He had been tense and every brush Prowl's armor made against his sent his spark into a frenzy. Every time Prowl would groan or shift in his recharge made his sensors tingle. Prowl's mere presence made him want to hold the SIC and never let go.

Prowl would power down incredibly fast, showing exactly how exhausted the day would leave him. It had worried him to see that the tactician had everyone fooled, making it seem like all the work he had to do was not tiring at all. But at the same time, he didn't pass the opportunity to watch the doorwinger every night.

Jazz loved having fantasies. Not sexual. But he couldn't stop from thinking that Prowl was his mate. It was so easy to make himself believe it. Awkwardness aside, it felt so _right_ to have Prowl share his berth. It felt like they were already a bonded couple in their quarters. Pit, he had to stop himself from greeting Prowl with a 'morning love' every morning.

Bluestreak completed the image of his fantasized family. Ever since Prowl had discovered Bluestreak in the ruins of Praxus, the youngling had never strayed from his side looking at the stoic SIC for guidance. Prowl had been there for the youngling every step of the way, teaching him the ways of the Autobots and helping him get over his traumatic experience. It was no secret that Bluestreak loved Prowl as a mentor, and even if it was rarely said, the tactician loved the gunner as his own.

Jazz had been the one that helped Prowl reach out to the youngling though. The tactician had no experience and many times had gone to Jazz for help with the more, 'emotional' things the youngling needed. In a sense, Bluestreak had helped speed up Prowl's discovery of his own emotions, something Jazz was thankful for.

The youngling had also managed to claim a special place in the saboteur's spark. Jazz loved the gunner as a mentor would and many mechs often joked that the SIC and TIC had adopted the gunner. While it was a joke to them, sleeping in the same room with the gunner and Prowl, and on the same berth made him feel like Prowl was his bonded and Bluestreak their youngling.

It was such a perfect fantasy to live every night, that when he would wake up the next day to realize that none of what he had thought was real, it just tore his spark apart.

And now, everything was coming to an end. Tonight would probably be the last they shared a berth. Their quarters were finished but Hoist and Grapple wanted to wait the night for the paint to dry. Prowl had already sent a notice that the authorities in Las Vegas were to release Smokescreen from the car pound. The whole ARK had heard the gambler's curses coming from Prowl's com link.

It wasn't fair. To have Prowl so close yet so far away. Unattainable. He had decided never to show his feelings afraid that they might be rejected, but Jazz found that he did not know if he feared that their friendship would be ruined, or that his spark would not survive the rejection.

He had decided but, after two weeks that they had spent together, and tonight being the last one, it made him feel like he would lose Prowl. It was so illogical. Their quarters were right next to each other! But still, it felt like the barrier between them that had come down a bit during those two weeks would come back up full force, and Jazz could not make himself pass up this opportunity.

With another sigh, he decided that tonight, he would at least try to see what Prowl felt for him, one way or another.

0000000000000000000000000

Prowl couldn't concentrate. He still had many reports to do but he could not focus on any of them. Not on the shortage of medical supplies, not on the lack of Decepticon activity (which always meant that they were up to no good, again), not on the Twins' pranks and their destruction. No, he could not focus at all.

There was only on thing on his processor at the moment.

Jazz.

He cursed under his breath. It had been two weeks that they had shared a _berth_. Every time he thought about it he couldn't help his cheekplates heating up in embarrassment. He had never, _ever_ shared a berth with anyone. Had it been any other mech, he would just feel awkwardness at the situation. But as it was, it wasn't just any mech. It was Jazz, the mech he was in love with and whom he could never have.

There had been nights where the three occupants of Bluestreak's room would sit and talk and lay in darkness and gossip about the day's events. The majority of nights though, Prowl had just entered the room and gone straight into recharge. Not that he stayed. He would always wake in the middle of the night and just stare at the visored mech.

He was so handsome. He wondered why he didn't have a mate already. Jazz was everything a suitor would look for. Funny, intelligent, cunning, cheerful, supportive. Why was he alone? That thought let him hope. And as he watched the saboteur sleep he couldn't but think what it would be like to share a berth with Jazz, not as friends and certainly not because of shortage of rooms and berths. He wondered what it would be like to wake up and see Jazz, as his bondmate recharging. The thought often made him lay awake a bit longer, pulling a smile out of him. How wonderful would it be to be able to sleep together every night simply because they loved each other?

It was a stupid fantasy of his. Nevertheless, he loved the natural heat the came from Jazz's armor, he loved the way the quiet and gentle sounds his systems made would lull him into recharge, he loved the way Jazz would unconsciously slide closer to him, and he definitely loved the way the saboteur mumbled in his sleep.

But that would all be gone by tomorrow. After tonight, he would go back to the cold solitude of his berth and to the deafening silence of his quarters. It seemed cruel to have been given a taste of heaven only to be thrown back into the pit.

Prowl's spark clenched painfully. Why was Primus doing this to him? Maybe it was a test? He had never been devoted or anything, specially after Praxus. But he could only thank Primus for the gift that Jazz was in his life and so, he could not understand why it seemed like the deity was mocking him.

Prowl didn't know what to think of it, but if it was a test of some sort, did that mean that Jazz, might feel something for him other than friendship? If that were so, why hadn't he said anything?

The tactician made up his mind. Tonight, he would question Jazz, and should their friendship be ruined for ever because of it, at least he would know what he truly meant to the saboteur.

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The quarters were silent. Bluestreak had fallen into recharge as soon as his head hit the soft pillows.

Prowl was laying on his side, doorwings facing the wall while Jazz just stared at the ceiling, daring it to say this was a bad idea.

He knew Prowl was awake. He seemed off somehow. Almost as if he were nervous. And the doorwinger _was _nervous. He had decided to confront Jazz but now had no idea what to say to start the conversation. Asking outright was out of the question. He had dealt with Decepticons negotiators and even as an enforcer with kidnappers and he had not been nervous at all. He had been cool and firm knowing exactly what he wanted. But in these types of conversations, he had no idea how to be subtle.

"Hey Prowl?"

The doorwinger jumped at the sudden call. It was a soft whisper, wary yet determined.

"Yes?" He answered just as equally.

"How was your day?"

"Umm, fine. Thank you for asking. Yours?"

A part of Jazz was yelling at him for how stupid he was being and of how he was wasting time. Yet another part was dreamily thinking this would be just like a bonded couple, asking how each other's day went. He smiled.

"Mine was fine, bit boring without Smokey but Ah survived."

"I still can not believe that he went to Las Vegas. And it seems to me as completely illogical that any casino let him play. Human gambling games are far too easy to win for our kind." Prowl whispered dryly.

The saboteur let out a chuckle. "It was great timing though and he ain't gonna forget the punishment ya gave him. Two weeks in alt mode in a car pound? Mech, you're evil."

Prowl smiled at the tease and his nervousness eased a bit.

"If I recall correctly, it was you who gave me the idea."

"Yeah well, ya didn't have ta go through with it."

Both fell into silence again, suddenly not sure what to say. Prowl locked his optics on the small space between his face and Jazz's shoulder, face laying gently on his servo while Jazz glared at the ceiling, blaming it for the silence.

"Jazz?"

"Yeah?"

Prowl bit his lip uncertainly. This was it. He tried subtle but it didn't work. Might as well ask before it was too late.

"What am I to you?"

For Jazz, the question had come out of nowhere. And it had been the same question he wanted to ask. He laid frozen, unsure if Prowl meant what he wanted it to mean or something else.

"What do you mean?"

The tactician felt like his spark would shatter if it pulsed any quicker.

"Who do you see me as? Your comrade? Your superior? Your friend or, something else?" He finished trailing off, voice dying as he prepared himself to hear Jazz's surprised voice an probably gentle rejection.

He offlined his optics, not being able to look at the other.

A moment of intense silence followed. Jazz replayed the question over and over. Had Prowl sounded… hopeful? Slowly, he turned on to his side, facing Prowl. He resisted the urge to touch him, afraid it would ruin whatever was going on.

"What am _I_ to _ya_ Prowl?" He asked even more softly, though a hint of desperation tainted his voice.

Prowl's optics snapped open. "I, " could he say it? Could he admit he loved his friend? Could he risk losing the first friendship he had ever had? The first bot that meant something to him?

The stress was killing him. His doorwings were twitching in despair and light shivers ran through his frame as he bit his glossa to keep his optics from tearing.

"Jazz, you, mean a lot to me." That at least was a safe answer. But in a moment of inspiration and desperation, he couldn't help but add, "You have helped me live, have cared for me when others have abandoned me, have always comforted me even when I tried to push you away, have taught me how to never fear my emotions and how to embrace them. Jazz, you mean the world to me. You are, my most cherished friend."

Jazz was moved by the words that came out of Prowl's vocalizer like a cry for acknowledgment. But his spark almost stopped with his last sentence. He almost cried out, but Prowl wasn't finished.

"But," He whispered" I wish, that you were more, if you'd ever see it as possible."

For a moment, the saboteur didn't move. The words had stunned him and his visor flared in shock. His silence must have given Prowl the wrong message though, because the poor mech seemed near tears as he offlined his optics.

"I'm sorry Jazz, I don't know what came over me. Just forget what I said."

Prowl made as if to turn, but Jazz's servo on his arm stopped him. Once he was sure that the tactician would stay as he was, his servos cupped the SIC's face to look at him.

"Prowl. Look at me." He said softly, gently, and fondly? Slowly, Prowl onlined his optics and was surprised to see that Jazz had lifted his visor. His optics were beautiful, and the emotion in them were unmistakable. Something in his spark burst.

"Ya silly mech. Ah won't ever forget what ya said ta me. So don't ya forget what Ah'm 'bout ta say ta ya got it?"

Prowl could only nod dumbly and Jazz's smile grew.

"Ah love ya Prowl. More than just a friend. And Ah would love it, if ya had meh."

Prowl could only let out a choked laugh as he nodded vigorously.

"Yes, of course I would!"

Chuckling, Jazz finally allowed his arms to embrace his frien- no. Not friend any more. His lover, he embraced his lover and felt Porwl's arms wrap around his neck pulling them closer to each other, foreheads meeting as they stared into each other's optics.

"Ah love ya Prowl." Jazz repeated adoringly.

"And I love you."

Slowly, their lips met, in their first kiss.

On the other berth, Bluestreak smiled.

_'Finally_.'

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Yey done! Review please!


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